Picture a dazzling spring day in the Pacific Northwest. In a small classroom at a Christian college, five senior English majors sit in a semi-circle, attentively listening to their professor as she elaborates on medieval theology. The course? Chaucer and his contemporaries.

This was my last English class in undergrad, and I remember it well. Not only were Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales¬†entertaining, but the history surrounding his tales is remarkable.
We studied the Crusades, of course, and we studied contemporary theology. After all, the church had a lot of influence in Chaucer’s society, so he slipped in all kinds of references to Christian living and Augustinian thought. Continue reading



This is the first time that I want to kiss you.
I look at the snow fluffed around our feet in soft mounds.
My breath escapes my lips in wisps and clouds, mingling with yours.
In a moment, this space will be gone,
And I will have lost you.
A snowflake falls on my glove, brilliant and perfect.
My eyes look up to meet yours, but you look past me.
You’re far away, and I tread the waves of what could have been.

Confession: when I first found this poem tucked into a folder on my laptop, I did not recognize it, but I know that I wrote it, probably a couple of years ago. I don’t write poetry often, but here ya go.